Cross Your Heart
by Hiyume
Summary: "That might sound boring... but I think the boring stuff is the stuff I remember the most." A very short oneshot. Russell asks his father something important. Pre-movie.


**A/N: **Had to write a short story for a class, so I thought I'd go ahead and post it here.

This movie was so sweet. Russell was adorable. So many moments where I just wanted to hug him and never let go.

Hope you enjoy~

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Up. It belongs to Pixar and Disney.

_"He used to come to all my sweat lodge meetings, and afterward we'd go get ice cream at Fenton's. I always get chocolate and he gets butter crinkle. Then we sit on this one curb right outside and I'll count all the blue cars and he counts all the red ones, and... whoever gets the most... wins. ... I like that curb._

_"That might sound boring, but I think the boring stuff is the stuff I remember the most."_

_-Russell, "Up"_

* * *

><p>"Blue car!"<p>

Fenton's was busy, as it always was on a late Friday afternoon-parents scrambling out of work, picking up children from after-school activities. The ice cream here was known for its excellent quality, and the store itself seemed to be warm and inviting, as if the sun always had that perfect tilt at this time of day to provide a spotlight of energy over the shoppe.

But today was different. There were no clouds, yet the usual orange-yellow glow had been replaced by an almost pale blue hue, like someone had placed tinted glass in the sky.

"Blue car!" the boy, Russell, yelled again. He sat on the curb in front of Fenton's, a bit of chocolate ice cream dripping unnoticed down the cone in his left hand. His sweat lodge meeting had just ended, and, just like every late Friday afternoon, he rested on the cement, watching cars pass by, still in his Wilderness Adventurer uniform. His large camper backpack, which he kept with him at all times, lay to his left.

The rush of cars seemed to slow, to the point that the street was deserted. Russell's face fell slightly at the sudden quiet, nothing but the muffled chatter beyond the window of the store behind him. After what felt like forever-more like a few seconds, though his attention span wasn't the longest in the world-Russell fidgeted, feet shifting against the pavement while he licked absently at his ice cream-which, oddly, tasted bland.

"Hey, dad...?" the eight-year-old mumbled, tilting his head slightly to the right. He didn't wait for a reply, and didn't really expect one. "So... I'm going to get my Assisting The Elderly badge soon... see? I even have a spot for it." Russell lifted his right hand and placed a chubby index finger on the empty space at the front of the brown belt slung over his shoulder and around his waist. Its surface was completely covered in small badges and pins, declaring an award for seemingly everything-from tying a knot to spelling to various specific things that might not look obvious to the untrained eye.

"The award ceremony is two weeks away... the other kids' dads are going to be there..." he explained, his finger seeming to linger over the empty brown patch, his voice hesitant and small, almost as if he felt guilty for what he was about to request. "I know you're busy a lot, but... but could you be there too?"

There was silence again, and during that silence Russell kept his eyes tightly shut, hoping the answer would be yes. His father was the reason he was a Wilderness Adventurer in the first place. For him to be there when he gets his final badge would make it all worth it.

He just wanted his dad to be proud.

There was a small grunt beside him. An approving kind of grunt. Russell opened his eyes and looked up-not looking over at his father, but ahead. And he watched, without a word, as a red car drove by. There was no voice to call it out.

"... Cross your heart?" the boy whispered, finally turning to his right. The untouched butter crinkle ice cream dripped slowly from the cone that leaned against the curb. The wind picked up for a moment, giving him that same approving grunt, this time knocking over the cone and spilling its contents. But it was okay. No one was going to eat it anyway.

Russell smiled sadly, staring at the ruined ice cream as his index finger traced a small 'x' over his heart. Traffic picked up again, just as Phillis called out behind him, telling him it was time to go.

And for the first time, he won.

"Blue car."


End file.
